13,671 feet

If you had told me when I first met Josh Smyth in grade nine drama class that he and I would be standing atop the highest mountain in North Africa together in less than a decade, I'd probably have had you committed. It seems I owe you a hypothetical apology.

Because on May 15th at approximately 10:30 a.m., we were doing exactly that, surveying the Moroccan High Atlas range from 13,671 feet up. It was the climax of an arduous yet beautiful climb, excruciating and wondrous with an intensity that few of my life experiences to date - if any - can rival.

Taking in the panoramic views afforded by the peak was an exhilarating high - the type that inspires naps, evidently, as Josh was resting his eyes on the edge of the precipitous peak within minutes of reaching the summit (see above). I can't blame him. The two-day climb definitely tapped the finite strength and perseverance reserves of this duo of out-of-shape 23-year-olds.

Despite that, and in some ways because of it, our venture to the top of Jbel Toubkal marked the pinnacle of my memorable Moroccan sojourn, and I'm sure to pontificate on it in far more depth soon enough.

But not yet. I have less than a week left in Sierra Leone, and much of that will be occupied with playing the role of tour guide for my brother, who arrives on Sunday night - meaning the brunt of my Morocco and Rwanda blogs will have to wait until I'm back on Canadian soil in June.

In the meantime, I'm hoping to get a few posts scheduled to fill the void while Matt and I are off tracking gorillas and steeping ourselves in the human capability for horror. But for those that need an urgent fix and haven't already discovered the more timely musings of my Moroccan travel comrade, you can read up on the first half of our time together here, on Mr. Smyth's engaging contribution to the blogosphere, Staring Out Of Windows. If you have any sense, you'll join his already considerable following while you're at it.